Family Sacrifices
by Olivia Sutton
Summary: How far would Shawn go to protect his father?  How would Henry react? Part 3 revised, part 4 is new.
1. Chapter 1

**Fandom: Psych**

**Title: Family Sacrifices**

**Author: Olivia Sutton**

**Warnings: Violence, Angst**

**Rating: PG-13/Teen**

**Parts: 3**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Season: Second season, not specific.**

**Feedback: Yes, please.**

**Archive: Fanfic Net, Psychfic, otherwise please ask.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Psych_, and I'm not making any profit from this. This is for the enjoyment of other fans. Feedback and reviews are most welcome.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Date: 17 October 2007**

**A/N: My first full-length _Psych_ story. Thanks to ilsaluvsrick over at Live Journal for beta help, Cheri on the Yahoo fanfic med list for beta help, and Fodor's Travel Books (series) Southern California for info on Santa Barbara. Hugs to all! Mistakes are my own or used for dramatic license. This is more pure hurt/comfort than angst, I hope it's enjoyed. Oh, and the flashback is inspired by a challenge on Psychfic. This is meant to be a gen story with no shippings. Please enjoy responsibly! Share and review!**

**Summary: How far would Shawn go to protect his father? How would Henry react?**

* * *

"Family Sacrifices"

by Olivia Sutton

Shawn Spencer sat at his desk at the Psych Detective Agency, watching the agency's new plasma TV, and playing with his desk toys. He was bored, he and his friend and partner, Burton "Gus" Guster, hadn't had a case in weeks. But Shawn's ears picked-up as he noticed that a news report was now on the TV screen instead of his baseball game, and he reached for the remote to turn up the sound.

"...the former police officer was shot in front of his suburban Santa Barbara home, Henry S..." the reporter's voice was drowned out by a jack hammer from the street outside the agency.

Shawn gasped, the blood draining from his face, then he quickly hit the volume control on the remote, tuning the TV sound to its loudest setting to overcome the noise of the jack hammer.

"...apparently by rifle from long range," the female reporter turned to Detective Carlton Lassiter, who had approached her, Detective Juliet O'Hara behind him, who was wearing latex surgical gloves, "Mister Lassiter, maybe you could..."

"**Detective** Lassiter," he interrupted.

"**Detective**. Maybe you could tell us more about what happened here?"

Carlton nodded, his face haggard, "Henry Sorenson may have been a **former** member of the SBPD, but he was still a brother officer, and the force takes any assaults against the police very seriously. Whoever did this will be caught. Now excuse me, I have work to do."

"That was Santa Barbara police detective, Carlton Lassiter..."

Shawn clicked off the TV with the remote, then relaxed into his chair at his desk. It wasn't his father. For a second, when he'd heard the reporter say 'retired officer Henry', he had been sure that it was his own father. But he knew the name, Henry Sorenson had been his father's partner for ten years. Shawn remembered him as a serious and dour man with a thick mustache and dark brown hair, but with a wicked sense of humor, which came out at the oddest times. He had often wondered how the man had kept his sunny disposition, given his profession, especially since he had worked with his father. He was pushing back his desk chair when Gus entered the office.

"Gus, we need to head over to the police station, now!"

"What?" asked Gus, "I just got here, Shawn, what's the hurry?"

"The hurry is that someone's shot and killed a former SBPD officer, Gus. Now, come on!" Shawn headed for the door as he spoke.

"Former police officer?" Gus repeated, "Not..." he left off.

"Not my dad, no," said Shawn, "but Henry Sorenson was my dad's second partner, after his training partner, Morty," Shawn quickly explained as he moved. Then, Shawn stopped in front of Gus, turned, and faced him, "Look, Gus, I... I need to work on this case, no matter what the chief and Lassie say, OK?" Shawn's eyes widened, in an incredibly accurate imitation of Puss-in-Boots in his "cute" moment, then he continued, seriously, "I have to... It could have been Dad."

Gus nodded understandingly, "I'll drive."

* * *

Shawn sauntered confidently into the Santa Barbara police station, his friend Gus at his side. They weaved through the various desks and people in the crowded police station, before reaching Chief Karen Vick's office. 

Shawn brushed down his flannel shirt, T-shirt, and jeans, then pushed his way into the chief's office. Lassiter and Juliet were already in the office.

Karen looked up from her desk, "What now?"

Shawn walked straight to Karen's desk, looking very serious, "I want in on this case. You need my help."

Karen didn't ask for clarification, "Mr. Spencer, this is a cop killing. I don't think your father would want you involved. Besides, every officer in my precinct will be working on this."

Shawn considered his options, briefly, then said, "It's because of my father that I want in on this. I think he may be in danger. Henry Sor..." Shawn stumbled, then continued, "Henry Sorenson was his partner."

Before she could respond to that, Henry Spencer burst into Chief Vick's office.

Karen looked up, annoyed, "Does it actually **matter** to either of you that my door was shut?"

Both Spencers looked at her and said, "No."

"I don't want my son working on this, Chief Vick," said Henry, "something like this is much too dangerous for an amateur detective."

Shawn's face fell; he knew his father didn't approve of how he put his observational talents to use solving crimes for the police department, but he had never used the word 'amateur' before. "Hey, they **pay me**, Dad," he said, "and I'm a psychic, not technically a detective. I know you've never really understood my talents but..."

Henry stared at Shawn, then said, "It's too dangerous!"

Chief Vick looked from father to son and back, filing away their squabbling for another time, then said, "Mr. Spencer!"

"Yes," both Spencers responded.

"Stop **doing** that!" insisted Lassiter, from the other side of the office, "One Spencer is quite enough," he paused, adding under his breath, "I can't believe I'm saying this," then said louder, "Shawn, have you gotten any visions?"

Shawn nodded, then his expression went blank and spacey, he raised one hand to the side of his head, and the other before himself, shouting out, "Rifle, ... gun sight... up high..." He came to his senses, then said, "I'm sorry, that's all I got, but if I saw the crime scene..."

"Shawn," said Henry in a warning voice.

Vick looked at Shawn, impressed, "No, Henry, I think we should let Shawn see the crime scene."

Henry nodded, looking frustrated and angry, "All right. Fine. But I want to see Shawn, alone, for a moment. Come on, Shawn."

Shawn looked at his father, saw his serious expression, and nodded, then meekly followed him out of Chief Vick's office.

Vick followed Shawn with her eyes, surprised by his quiet demeanor, so different from the young man who normally bounced off the walls of her office.

Once outside the chief's office, Shawn turned and carefully shut the door, then he turned toward his father, "I want in on this!"

Henry looked at Shawn then grabbed his shoulder. Shawn looked at his father's hand, and Henry let go, then said, "Shawn, this is** too** dangerous!"

Shawn threw his hands in the air, "I don't think you understand, Dad!"

Henry shook his head, "You're right, I don't. This has been a lark for you, one more short-term job until you get bored, but..."

Shawn stepped closer to his father and cut him off, "This **isn't** a lark, Dad! I've finally found something that I **want** to do. Something that I'm good at. Something that will make you..." he stopped, then turned away.

Henry, ice blue eyes blazing, grabbed Shawn's shoulder for the second time in as many minutes and spun his son around, "Something that will make me what, Shawn?"

Shawn shook his head, side-stepping the question, "You don't get it, do you? I don't suppose it occurred to you to actually **ask me **what brought me to the station today?"

Henry's eyes widened in surprise, in actuality, it hadn't occurred to him to ask. "What? So, what brought you here?"

Shawn looked around the station, then said, intensely, "Outside," and dragged Henry to the nearby door to the parking lot. Once they were standing outside, he checked to make sure there weren't any police officers around, then he looked at Henry's face and said, quietly, "A news report, Dad... a news report brought me down here."

Henry looked at Shawn's intense face in surprise, "A news report? So?"

"Arrggh," Shawn groaned, raising his hands in the air, "The reporter said a former police officer Henry **something**, Dad. There was noise from the street. I didn't hear the last name, not until Lassiter repeated it a few minutes later. Do you have any idea what went through my mind? Do you?" he insisted.

Henry stared at Shawn, then insisted, "OK, let's go over to the truck and talk about it."

"What?" said Shawn.

Henry indicted the other cops entering and leaving the station, "My truck?"

"Right, Dad," said Shawn, walking off toward the truck, which was parked in the lot in front of the station.

They reached the truck, and Henry was reaching over to open the door, when Shawn noticed a glare from the building roof on the opposite side of the parking lot. "Get down!" he yelled, pushing Henry to the blacktop surface of the parking lot and covering him with his own body.

There was the sharp retort of a rifle shot.

Henry groaned, then realized he was face down on the blacktop and Shawn was on top of him, holding him down and not moving. "Shawn!"

Shawn didn't answer.

Henry tried to reach Shawn but couldn't bend his arm backwards, but he felt a wetness from the body above him. Then another shot rang out.

Henry had been shot once before while wearing a bullet-proof vest, and he remembered the sensation, but this time it was his own son who stopped the bullet for him. Henry felt the impact, and knew it had hit Shawn in the lower back, possibly in the kidneys. He also knew he had to get himself and Shawn under cover, and quickly. It could be dangerous moving Shawn, especially since he couldn't catch him because he was underneath his son, but it would be more dangerous if Shawn took another bullet. Henry slowly rolled out from under Shawn, letting his son fall to the ground, then once he was free of Shawn's body, he turned and shielded Shawn from where he thought the bullets were coming from, reached forward, and checked Shawn's neck for a pulse. It was there! Fast and thready but there! Henry let out the breath he'd been holding, then began to visually inspect his son for injuries.

Shawn had been shot twice, once in the upper back near his left shoulder and once in the lower back also on the left, near his waist. Henry double-checked Shawn's pulse at his neck and Shawn's breathing; and so far, both were still there, then used his hands to apply pressure to the wounds. Just then there was a third sharp retort from a rifle, the shot whizzed past Henry's ear, and he hunched over to protect his son, then he quickly checked their situation, looking for better cover. He took Shawn in his arms, and half-crawled, half moved on his knees around to the back of the truck, laying Shawn near the back of the pickup. Henry faced the truck, kneeling next to Shawn, his back to the police station. He reached up, and lowered the tailgate, offering a thin metal roof of protection over Shawn. Then he reached forward to Shawn's neck, again checking his pulse. The pulse was still thready, and now weaker. Henry moved closer, pushing his fingers deeper into Shawn's neck, when he suddenly felt his pulse disappear entirely.

"No! Come on, Shawn!" Henry arranged Shawn on his back, checked the pulse again, and when he found it missing, he began CPR, pumping his son's heart and breathing for him.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the police station, the officers had heard the shots in the parking lot, and alerted Chief Vick. Now, Lassiter, Gus, and Juliet all stood at the doorway looking out toward Shawn and Henry in the parking lot. 

"Gus, find a phone and call for an ambulance. Tell the dispatcher that the ambulance should cut the sirens once they reach Anapamu, and stop about 30 feet from the entrance to our parking lot. Get a phone number or radio frequency for the bus, so we can tell them when it's safe to enter the lot, OK?" Lassiter ordered.

Gus nodded, "Got it."

"And if you have to-- tell 'em we have an officer down, and you can tell him you're 'Officer Guster' under my authority, but only if you need to get them moving, got it, Gus?"

Gus nodded again, then scurried away.

Lassiter turned to Juliet, "O'Hara-- I want you to gather a small group of officers, leave the station out the side entrance, take Santa Monica Avenue down to that building..." he pointed through the window to the building on the north side of the parking lot, "Find that sniper and stop him-- by any means necessary," he looked to Chief Vick, questioningly, for approval.

"Lethal force is authorized; bring him down, Detective," said Karen.

Juliet nodded, "Right."

Lassiter reached for her arm, "Have the officers either go through the building to the roof, or enter on its north side from a fire escape. Just make sure none of you are seen until you take this guy down. And, O'Hara, be careful, this guy hasn't shown any hesitation about killing cops or civilians."

Juliet nodded again, "Shawn?"

"The chief and I will try to help Henry, but we can't do anything until that maniac stops shooting."

Juliet nodded again, and left.

Chief Vick looked at Lassiter in surprise, but before she could say anything, Gus returned.

"I reached 911, they've dispatched an ambulance. I gave them your instructions, and they gave me this number," Gus showed Lassiter a piece of paper with a phone number written on it.

"Right, now the hard part, waiting out the sniper, or waiting for O'Hara and our officers to bring him down."

"How's Shawn?" asked Gus.

"I was about to find out," Lassiter reached for the door.

Chief Vick reached out, placing a hand on his arm, stopping him, "If you open that door, the sniper might shoot at you."

"If he does, Henry might be able to get Spencer, I mean, Shawn Spencer, clear. Besides, we need to know how bad he's hurt, Chief."

Karen let go of Carlton, and nodded.

Lassiter opened the door and yelled toward Henry, "How bad?"

Henry looked up and over his shoulder, then back at Shawn as he continued performing CPR. He stopped pumping, puffed air into Shawn's lungs, waited for the exhale, then continued pumping his son's chest. "He's been hit twice!" he said, turning his head and shouting back, "Right now, he has no pulse and he's not breathing. He needs an ambulance!"

Lassiter nodded, his face grim, "Are you hurt, Henry?"

Henry turned to meet Lassiter's eyes and shook his head, then returned to facing Shawn, blew into his mouth again, then turned his head again and yelled back, "No!"

Lassiter pulled back inside the station, and turned toward Karen and Gus, "Shawn's been shot twice. It's serious."

Gus had looked through the window and seen Henry performing CPR on Shawn, "He's not breathing, is he?"

Lassiter just turned back toward the parking lot, ignoring Gus.

Gus grabbed Lassiter's arm and spun him around until they were face to face, then he let go, "Is he?"

Lassiter shook his head no.

Gus grabbed for the door, but Lassiter and Chief Vick held it closed before he could even open it.

"You can't go out there, Guster, you'll give the sniper another target. I, **we**, can't allow that," said Chief Vick.

Lassiter nodded, "What she said. I can't even send an ambulance in, until it's safe."

"And what about Shawn? He can't last long, even with CPR, he needs professional medical care! And he needs it now!" shouted Gus.

Lassiter simply shook his head.

Then there was the sound of a scuffle and shots outside, then Lassiter's cell phone sounded the _Law and Order_ theme. Gus raised an eyebrow at the ring-tone, but Carlton simply glared, checked the caller ID, and answered the phone, "What is it, O'Hara?"

He listened, then asked, "Any officers hurt?", listened again, then said, "Good job, bring him to the station for questioning," then snapped close the phone.

"What?" asked Gus.

"They've got him. Gus, call the ambulance crew, tell them they can pull in to the parking lot. And tell 'em to hurry!"

Gus nodded, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed the number on the piece of paper he held. Meanwhile, Lassiter and Karen were heading out across the parking lot. Moving and talking into the phone at the same time, Gus followed the police officers toward Henry and Shawn.

Lassiter reached Shawn and Henry, fell to his knees, then said, "Let me take over."

Henry shook his head.

"Come on, you're exhausted, let me take over! Count, Henry..." said Lassiter.

"One, two, three..." said Henry as he counted off the compressions to Lassiter.

"Four, five," Lassiter joined in as he positioned his hands above Henry's, ready to take over.

Henry blew another breath into Shawn's mouth, after the exhale, Lassiter took over, pumping Shawn's chest.

"How long?" asked Lassiter.

"Wha... What?" said Henry.

"How long has he been down?"

"Just since I moved him, um, maybe two minutes, I don't know!"

Lassiter nodded again, then blew into Shawn's mouth, before continuing the chest compressions.

Gus had reached them by that point. His eyes took in the puddle of blood between Henry's truck and the next car, and the trail to where Shawn lay now. Henry had taken off his shirt, folded it and stuck the fabric behind Shawn's back. Lassiter was now doing the CPR, and Henry sat, dazed, leaning against his truck.

"Mister Spencer?" Gus asked.

Henry didn't answer, his eyes focused on the rise and fall of Shawn's chest as Lassiter did his work.

"Are you hurt, Henry?" asked Chief Vick.

Henry shook his head.

Gus nodded at the blood covering Henry, "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." He looked down at the blood, including the blood on his hands, and wiped them against his pants, then said, "It's Shawn's-- it's all Shawn's."

Just then, the ambulance pulled in and stopped. The paramedics jumped out.

"What..." the first paramedic started.

"He's been shot, twice, once in the upper back, shoulder area, and once in the lower back, on the left, near his waist," said Henry, flatly, "He's 28 years old, and we've been doing CPR for about two minutes. You should know that he lost his right kidney and spleen when he was seventeen, to a motorcycle accident. But he doesn't have any other medical conditions."

"Your relation to the patient?" said the first paramedic.

"He's... he's my son," answered Henry, his voice still flat.

Lassiter was still performing CPR on Shawn. The second paramedics rushed over and counted with Lassiter as he performed compressions. Once Lassiter had reached five, and had given Shawn another breath, the paramedic took over, and Lassiter moved back, collapsing onto his heels.

The other paramedic joined his partner. He set a portable heart monitor next to Shawn, and attached the leads to his chest.

Meanwhile Lassiter pushed himself to his feet and walked over to where Chief Vick and Gus stood, looking at Shawn and the two paramedics.

"Shawn?" asked Gus, his expression filled with worry.

At the same time, the paramedic nodded at Henry's declaration, checked the heart monitor, and said, "V-fib!" He set-up the defibrillator, "Charging, 200 joules," he checked that the defibrillator also showed v-fib, then said, "Clear!"

Shawn's body jumped. Gus pulled back, closing his eyes in fear. Henry also looked away, not wanting to see what happened as the electricity coursed through Shawn's body.

"No conversion," said the paramedic, checking the monitor, "Charging 300 joules, clear," he said, then shocked Shawn a second time.

This time it worked. "Normal sinus rhythm," said the paramedic.

Gus opened his eyes, and Henry turned back, watching as the paramedics began working on Shawn.

"Breathing is shallow. Let's start oxygen and two wide bore IVs with normal saline. Check his wounds," said one of the paramedics to the other.

"We have two GSWs to the back," said the second paramedic to the first, as he checked Shawn's shoulder, lower back, and chest area, "No exit wounds. I think we should scoop and run."

The first paramedic nodded, "Let's patch up the wounds best we can, then run," he reached for his radio on his shoulder and called in Shawn's injuries to the trauma center's base station.

The second paramedic pressed gauze pads to Shawn's wounds, then taped them down.

Within minutes, the two paramedics had done as much as they could, they placed Shawn on a stretcher and moved him into the ambulance. "You," the first paramedic indicated Henry, "Do you want to come in with him?"

Henry nodded, his face showing haggard exhaustion. He started to step into the back of the ambulance.

"But up front, OK? I need all the space in the back to work on your son."

Henry nodded again, meekly, then he got into the passenger side of the ambulance.

"We'll meet you at the hospital," Gus shouted to Henry.

"Memorial Trauma Center," the paramedic said to Gus as he stepped into the back of the ambulance. The ambulance moved out of the parking lot, siren screaming.

"Memorial Trauma Center," Gus parroted. He turned to Lassiter, "You coming?"

"I'm **driving**," Lassiter responded.

Just then O'Hara appeared, sans her prisoner.

Lassiter looked at Juliet in shock, "What **happened**? I thought you had him!"

"I did! He's in the lock-up. With about a half dozen officers on guard, Carlton. You know how everyone in this precinct feels about Shawn. He's not going anywhere."

Lassiter nodded at her, rubbed his face, then wobbled slightly on his feet.

"You all right?" asked Juliet.

"Yeah, I'm fine, little woozy from doing CPR on Shawn."

"What?" yelled Juliet.

Carlton simply shook his head, then turned to Gus, "You coming to the hospital? Because, I'm leaving, **now**."

"Of course," replied Gus.

"O'Hara?" asked Lassiter.

Juliet looked toward the chief for permission.

"Go ahead, both of you," said Chief Vick, "I'll take your statements later. Keep me informed on Spencer's, Shawn's, condition. I need to interview Juliet's suspect. And take care of things here."

Lassiter nodded, once, then pointed to his unmarked police car, "Come on, everyone."

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fandom: Psych**

**Title: Family Sacrifices**

**Author: Olivia Sutton**

**Warnings: Violence, Angst**

**Rating: PG-13/Teen**

**Parts: 3**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Season: Second season, not specific.**

**Feedback: Yes, please.**

**Archive: Fanfic Net, Psychfic, otherwise please ask.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Psych_, and I'm not making any profit from this. This is for the enjoyment of other fans. Feedback and reviews are most welcome.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Date: 17 October 2007**

**A/N: My first full-length _Psych_ story. Thanks to ilsaluvsrick over at Live Journal for beta help, Cheri on the Yahoo fanfic med list for beta help, and Fodor's Travel Books (series) Southern California for info on Santa Barbara. Hugs to all! Mistakes are my own or used for dramatic license. This is more pure hurt/comfort than angst, I hope it's enjoyed. Oh, and the flashback is inspired by a challenge on Psychfic. This is meant to be a gen story with no shippings. Please enjoy responsibly! Share and review!**

**Summary: How far would Shawn go to protect his father? How would Henry react?**

* * *

**PART TWO**

Meanwhile, the ambulance screamed through the light early afternoon Santa Barbara traffic. Henry sat in the passenger seat, turning his hands over and over.

"So, your son is a cop?" asked the paramedic who was driving.

"Civilian police consultant, actually," said Henry.

"But dispatch said..." he looked at Henry, then nodded silently. "They must really like him."

Henry sighed heavily, "He gets the job done. Shawn has the best case-solved rate in the precinct right now."

"So what does he..."

"Wait, pull over!" came a yell from the back of the ambulance.

Henry turned in his seat, looking at Shawn. The paramedic who was driving slowed the ambulance and began looking for a safe place to pull over.

The paramedic in the back looked at Shawn's heart monitor, it showed tachycardia, a very quick heart rhythm. But just as suddenly it returned to a normal sinus rhythm.

The paramedic double-checked Shawn's breathing and heart, then said, "OK, he's back! Step on it, Larry."

The ambulance moved back into traffic and Larry, the paramedic who was driving, increased his speed, then concentrated on his driving.

Henry continued to look into the back of the ambulance, "How is he?"

"Barely stable. He needs the trauma unit," answered the paramedic in the back.

Henry nodded, then put his face in his hands, tiredly. After a minute, he took his hands from his face, swallowed roughly, and leaned against the back of the passenger seat in the front of the ambulance.

The ambulance raced on through the streets of Santa Barbara.

Suddenly, the paramedic in the back yelled out again, accompanied by a screaming heart monitor alarm, "Pull over, pull over, he's in v-fib!"

The ambulance pulled to the side of the street.

"I thought we needed to get him to trauma!" Henry yelled at Larry.

"We can't shock his heart while the bus is moving, sir," he answered, then he began to move into the back of the ambulance.

Meanwhile, the second paramedic had taken out the defibrillator, and checked Shawn's heart rhythm. "V-fib, charging 300 joules," he turned the dials on the machine, "Clear!" then he shocked Shawn.

Shawn's body jumped.

The paramedic checked the heart monitor. "Right, he's back. Administering lidocaine. Larry, move it!"

Larry moved back to the driver's seat of the ambulance, then drove the last few blocks to the trauma center.

They pulled into the ambulance bay, and unloaded Shawn. The younger Spencer was rushed into the trauma center, and an E/R nurse quickly moved Henry away from the paramedics and doctors.

"Sir, are you related to the patient?"

Henry nodded, "He's my son. And I'd rather be with him!"

"Please, just let the doctors take care of him. There's some paperwork that needs doing, and then I'll show you where you can wait, all right?"

"Yeah, sure," Henry grumbled.

"First, does he have any allergies or medical conditions that the doctors need to know about?"

"Yeah, he lost his right kidney and his spleen when he was seventeen, motorcycle accident," explained Henry.

The nurse nodded, "Wait here," she said, then she went into the trauma treatment room, to tell the doctors what Henry had said. After a moment she returned to Henry and asked, "What's your name?"

"Spencer. Henry Spencer."

"Spencer," answered the nurse, then she led him to the emergency admittance desk.

* * *

Lassiter, Juliet and Gus rushed into Memorial Trauma Center, and immediately headed for the admittance desk. "Spencer," said Lassiter to the nurse behind the desk. 

"Excuse me," said the nurse,

"Shawn Spencer, he was just brought in. He was shot! We're..." he indicated Juliet and Gus.

"Friends?" asked the nurse, calmly, as she began typing the name into a computer on the desk.

"Yes," said Lassiter, nodding.

The nurse finished typing on the computer then read the screen, "The ambulance just arrived, sir, he's still in the trauma unit, being stabilized. There's a waiting area over by trauma," she motioned toward a hospital volunteer, "Janet, here, can show you where to wait," the nurse explained to Janet where to take the three.

"Thank you," said Gus.

"Thanks," added Lassiter and Juliet at the same time.

The three followed a young hospital volunteer with very short, spiky, dark brown hair, to the waiting area outside the trauma treatment room.

"Please, how is he doing?" said Juliet.

"I... I don't know, I could check for you?" said Janet.

"Please," said Gus.

"Sure, not a problem," said Janet.

Lassiter looked around. There were white chairs against the wall, a small table with old magazines, and not much else in the waiting area, "Wait, what about Henry Spencer?"

"Who? Is that another patient?" asked Janet, the hospital volunteer.

"No, he's Shawn's father. He was in the ambulance with Shawn. He should be here," Lassiter explained.

"I don't know, but I'll check on Shawn Spencer's condition, and then see if I can find out where Henry Spencer is, all right?"

Lassiter nodded, rubbed a hand over his face, then went over to the chairs to sit down. Gus and Juliet soon followed, sitting next to Lassiter.

A few minutes later Janet returned.

Lassiter, Gus, and Juliet stood and approached her.

"I checked with Mr. Spencer's, Mr. Shawn Spencer's doctors. They are still working on him, and once he's stable, he will need surgery. But someone will be out shortly to give you more information. As to Mr. Henry Spencer, one of the nurses allowed him to use the doctor's washroom to clean up and gave him some fresh scrubs to wear. But no one could tell me where he is now, I'm sorry."

"That's all right, thank you for the information, I think I might know where he went," said Gus.

Lassiter turned toward Gus, "Where?"

"I'll find him," said Gus, then he strode down the hospital corridor.

Lassiter watched Gus leave, then turned to Juliet, "If they are still working, that is **good **news, you know, I mean," Lassiter stopped, then sat down.

Juliet sat next to Lassiter, "I know. He'll be all right, Carlton."

Lassiter shook his head, then mumbled, "I hope so, I really hope so."

* * *

Meanwhile, Gus had approached Janet, he grabbed her arm, then let go, "Sorry. I'm sorry. Does this hospital have a chapel?" 

Janet nodded, "One floor down. Take the elevator, then turn right and it's at the end of the hall. Listen, I'm sure your friend will be OK..."

Gus nodded, "I hope so, but right now I'm also concerned about Shawn's father, and I hope that's where I'll find him. He shouldn't be alone, especially after what happened. Elevator?"

"That way," she pointed, "I'm going that way, I'll walk with you."

After a few minutes of walking, they reached a bank of elevators. Janet pressed the UP button, Gus the DOWN one. The elevator dinged, with a green UP arrow.

"This is my stop," said Janet, lightly, "Don't worry the doctors are very good at this hospital. Your friend will be fine."

"Yeah, yeah," said Gus, as he waited for the door to shut and to take her away. It did, and a minute later a down arrow appeared over a different elevator car. Gus took it, went down a floor, turned right when the doors opened and walked to the end of the hall.

He found the chapel, stopped for a moment, calming down, then opened the door.

There was Henry Spencer, wearing plain green hospital scrubs. Gus let out a breath and quietly walked into the chapel, then he lightly tapped Henry on the shoulder.

Henry jumped, then looked at Gus, "Oh, Gus, just a moment, OK?"

Gus nodded, then sat quietly behind Henry on one of the chairs in the chapel.

Henry closed his eyes, finished his prayers, quickly crossed himself, then got up and moved through the chairs to the aisle of the chapel, he genuflected toward the plain cross at the front of the chapel, crossed himself again, then exited the chapel.

Gus walked out of the chapel behind Henry.

Once outside, he turned toward Henry, "Why did you..." he mimed Henry's actions of genuflecting and crossing himself, "I'm pretty sure it's a non-denominational chapel."

"Habit," said Henry, simply, then he reached out and lightly touched Gus's arm, "How's Shawn?"

"They don't know yet. They haven't told us anything. But wouldn't you rather wait with Lassiter, Juliet and me, Mr. Spencer?"

Henry nodded, then he said quietly, "It's been a long time since I've been in a hospital chapel, Gus."

"He'll be fine..."

"You don't know that! He wasn't breathing, Gus! His heart stopped again on the way to the hospital! He took two bullets. Bullets with my name on them. He's so young, Gus, if Shawn..." Henry stopped, catching his breath.

Gus nodded, reached forward and took Henry's shoulders, "We need to go back to trauma and find out how he's doing then."

Henry nodded.

Gus led Henry to the elevator and back to the trauma waiting area.

* * *

Henry and Gus walked down the hospital corridor toward the waiting area where Juliet and Lassiter waited. As they did, they saw a red-haired female doctor leave the treatment room and approach the two police detectives. 

Gus began to hurry toward the doctor and police officers, but Henry hung back, suddenly not wanting to know, not yet.

As Henry watched, he saw Lassiter's knees buckle, and Juliet reached for the detective, holding him up. But he quickly recovered and moved away from his partner. Henry almost turned and ran away at that moment, but he had never run from anything.

Then Gus called toward Henry, "Mr. Spencer!"

Henry nodded, and moved closer, "My son?" he mumbled toward the doctor.

"I'm Doctor Alanna Montgomery," the doctor said, "I supervised Shawn's emergency treatment. We've stabilized him, but he still needs surgery."

"Can I see him before the surgery?" asked Henry.

Dr. Montgomery nodded, "Yes, but only for a few minutes, we need to get him to surgery as soon as possible. Also, Shawn has received two units of O negative blood, and four units of IV fluids. For the surgery we would like to transfuse his exact type, and Shawn is AB negative, which is very rare."

"I know," answered Henry.

"Well, we were wondering if you could donate...?" Dr. Montgomery asked.

"I have B negative, Doctor," Henry interrupted, "My wife, Shawn's mother was A positive. But if you need my blood, I'd gladly..."

"I have AB negative," volunteered Lassiter, "I remember from the last police blood drive, they were happy because it was such a rare type. I'd gladly donate to help Shawn."

"Actually," said the doctor, "We shouldn't have any problems pulling enough units from the blood bank, however, if you," he indicated all four, "would like to donate blood, we do encourage friends and family to donate while waiting for news, it will give you something constructive to do and it really helps replenish the hospital's supply. You don't need to, of course, but past experience has shown that family and friends do feel like they are actually doing something to help."

Henry and Lassiter nodded immediately, followed a few minutes later by Gus and Juliet.

"Can I see my son now?" asked Henry.

Gus, Lassiter, and Juliet all looked anxious, adding in variations on "Me too."

"Yes, of course," Dr. Montgomery moved toward the treatment room, "One at a time, OK? And please, be brief, as soon as the O. R. is available, we have to take him," then she held the door open.

Henry stepped through the door, then gasped, Shawn was hooked up to a respirator and a heart monitor. Tubes snaked everywhere into his son's body, and Shawn's eyes were closed. Henry stopped, then moved forward, sat in a chair next to Shawn, then lightly and carefully took Shawn's hand. Words failed him and he simply held Shawn's hand, happy that it was warm and that Shawn was still alive.

After a few seconds, Henry reluctantly got up, released Shawn's hand, then backed away to the exit from the trauma treatment room. He turned to Gus, tried to speak, but found he couldn't.

Gus nodded once to Henry, then moved over to Shawn's bedside, he took Shawn's hand, then said quietly, "You'll get through this, Shawn, I know it. You have to, please," Lassiter caught Gus's eye from the doorway, "Shawn, please, don't leave me, I need you. Please, Shawn," then Gus got up, and walked over to Lassiter and out of the trauma room.

Lassiter walked over to Shawn, "Listen, Spencer, you need to get through this because I'm not up to doing all the paperwork if you don't," he smiled, tightly, leaned close, and whispered in Shawn's ear, "I've gotten used to having you around, Spencer," he got up, and walked over to Juliet, where she stood in the trauma room doorway.

O'Hara stared at Shawn in the bed, then shook her head, it was too difficult to think about, that such an alive young man was now fighting for his life. She couldn't face saying anything to Shawn, and turned then moved back into the hallway.

Lassiter, Gus, and Henry were waiting there, with Doctor Montgomery, Janet the same volunteer they had seen earlier, and a pair of nurses.

"The operating room is available now, we're taking him up," The doctor said, "I believe you know Janet?" He said indicating the volunteer, "She'll can show all of you where to go to donate blood and the O.R. waiting area." Then he moved into Shawn's room, followed by a couple of nurses. In a moment, they returned pushing Shawn on a wheeled gurney, covered with attached equipment, and then the group headed for the elevators.

Janet looked at the four, "Did all of you wish to donate blood? I believe the doctor explained it would help others admitted to the trauma center?"

Henry, Gus, Juliet, and Lassiter nodded, then stepped a couple steps closer to Janet.

Janet nodded at the four, "All right, this way, then, all of you," and she led them in the opposite direction from where Dr. Montgomery and the nurses had disappeared with Shawn.

* * *

Henry pressed the cotton pad to his forearm, and stood, then wavered on his feet. 

Nancy, a short, heavy-set, blond phlebotomist, reached out to steady him, saying, "You shouldn't get up so fast, sir. And maybe you should have some juice before you decide to get up?"

Henry shook his head, "No, I need to see Shawn!"

Janet re-entered the room, "Your son is still in surgery, Mr. Spencer. You and the others would have been informed if anything changed."

Henry stood his ground, "I'm fine. I'll take the juice if I can bring it with me, but, get this through your heads, **I'm** **fine**! Are the others ready?"

Janet nodded, then pushed back a curtain that separated the area where Henry had given blood from the rest of the room. Gus, Lassiter, and Juliet all stood or sat, holding cotton pads to their arms. A nurse handed out Band-Aids, the last to Henry, who looked at her with disbelief, then took the small bandage and taped it over the cotton.

Lassiter walked over to Henry, then addressed Janet, "Perhaps you could show us to the waiting area near the O. R.?"

Gus joined the other two men adding, "Or at least tell us where it is?"

Janet smiled, "This way."

The four followed her.

* * *

Before long, the four were sitting in yet another waiting area, this one with grey plastic chairs and dark blue walls. 

Lassiter turned toward Henry, who sat next to him in the waiting area, and asked, quietly, "So what, exactly, happened? How did Spencer, Shawn, get shot?"

"What?" mumbled Henry, his expression dazed.

"What happened out there, Henry?" asked Lassiter again, slightly louder.

Juliet looked at Lassiter then, and added, "Yeah, why were you two out in the parking lot, anyway?"

Henry nodded, then said quietly, "I... I needed to talk to Shawn," he noticed Gus's expression, and knew his son's best friend wanted him to keep up Shawn's façade of being a psychic, "...about something private," Henry said, his voice gaining strength, "I... I was worried about him," he admitted. "Anyway, since I wanted some privacy, didn't want anyone to overhear, I asked him to talk in my truck. I reached for the truck door, Shawn was behind me, but then he turned, told me to get down, and put himself between me and the sniper."

Lassiter whistled.

"Yeah," said Henry, tiredly. "He..." Henry's voice shook, "I was trapped under him when I felt the second bullet hit. Then I made the decision that I had to roll out from under him, I did. Then, I checked and he had a pulse. Not a strong one, but he did. After that, there was a third shot, which missed both of us. Then I... I made another decision that..."

"Henry?" said Juliet, lightly touching his arm.

"I had to get us out of there! I picked him up and moved him behind the truck. That's when his pulse and breathing stopped, after **I** moved him! So, I started CPR. There wasn't anything else I could do."

"Henry, you had to get out of the line of fire," said Lassiter.

"At what cost?" said Henry.

"Henry," said Lassiter, then he stopped.

Henry just sat silent, his expression full of worry and fear.

Juliet looked at Henry, and Lassiter, then said, quietly, "And you took over from Henry, once I had brought the shooter down, didn't you, Carlton?"

Lassiter nodded, "He was exhausted, his arms were actually shaking."

"Do you think I would have stopped?" mumbled Henry.

Lassiter shook his head.

"The paramedics?" asked Juliet.

"They shocked him twice, but got him back. And again, in the ambulance," said Gus.

"What!" said Juliet and Lassiter.

Henry nodded, "They shocked him in the parking lot and got him back. He crashed twice in the ambulance. The first time he came back on his own, the second time... the second time, they had to..." Henry left off.

"I'm sorry, Henry, but I needed to know what happened," said Lassiter. "Spencer, Shawn, will make it. He'll get through this."

"He has to be all right, Henry, he has to," added Juliet.

Gus looked at the two police officers, surprised, then realized he didn't know why he was surprised, Shawn had that effect on people, they gravitated to him. His thoughts turned to his friend, filling with childhood memories.

The waiting area became quiet again.

After several hours, a new doctor approached from a nearby hallway. Everyone stood.

Henry moved toward the doctor, "How's Shawn? How is my son?"

"I'm Doctor Peter Beckwith, I did the surgery on Shawn. First, let me tell you that he made it through the surgery. He's being moved into recovery and once he's awoken from the anesthesia he'll be moved to an ICU room and you'll be able to see him. As I think you know, Shawn was shot twice. The first shot entered the rear of his shoulder, and broke his scapula." He looked at the group that eyed him anxiously, "His shoulder blade. It's a clean break and shouldn't give him too much trouble. I removed the bullet, repaired the damage, and his shoulder has been immobilized. The second shot, however, hit in the lower back. Fortunately, it missed his spinal column entirely. Unfortunately, it did enter his left kidney..."

Henry groaned, then mumbled, "Did you have to remove the kidney?"

Dr. Beckwith shook his head, then said, "No, because as I'm sure you know, Mr. Spencer, Shawn's medical files indicated that he lost his right kidney and spleen following a motorcycle accident when he was a teenager..."

Henry nodded, as did Gus. Lassiter looked at the doctor in shock; he **hadn't** known that about Shawn. Juliet gasped.

"Fortunately, we were able to save most of his kidney, and I repaired the damage from the bullet, as well as removing the bullet itself. We're estimating he'll have about 70 percent function in his left kidney. Because he no longer has his right kidney, Shawn's been placed on the transplant list. Until then, he'll need regular dialysis, which we might be able to gradually wean down if his body adjusts."

Henry nodded, immediately remembering a similar conversation with a different doctor at a different hospital years ago. "When can I see him?"

"He's in recovery now. As soon as he's in an ICU room, you'll be able to see him. Do you have any questions for me?"

Gus nodded, then said, "He was..." he gulped, "I saw it, both Mr. Spencer," he indicated Henry, "and Detective Lassiter," he indicated Carlton, "...had to perform CPR on Shawn, is he, OK? I mean, were there any ill effects, did he..." Gus stopped, unable to continue as all sorts of horrible thoughts came to mind.

The doctor actually smiled, "Actually, the CPR must have been performed about perfectly, and immediately. Shawn didn't suffer any broken ribs, as often happens, and there is no indication of any brain damage from lack of oxygen. We'll have to wait until he wakes up to be sure, but so far all his neuro tests have been clear."

"How often will he need dialysis, Doctor?" asked Henry.

"Three or four times a week, maybe more during his first couple of weeks. We'll have to test his kidney function, of course. Hopefully, though, his body will adjust and we'll be able to wean down the frequency."

Henry nodded again, running a hand over his face. He wiped his hand on his borrowed hospital scrubs, then stepped forward offering it to the doctor to shake, "Thank you."

Dr Beckwith smiled widely, "It's all right. Any other questions?" No one responded, so the doctor replied, "Well, I need to check on Shawn, and then I have other patients. Someone will come and get you when he can receive visitors in ICU."

All four nodded. Henry went back over to the chairs and sat down. Gus sat at his right. Juliet sat next to Gus.

Lassiter walked over and stood in front of Henry, "Shawn was injured that seriously in a motorcycle accident?"

"Yeah," Henry responded, quietly, "It was his senior year..."

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Fandom: Psych**

**Title: Family Sacrifices**

**Author: Olivia Sutton**

**Warnings: Violence, Angst**

**Rating: PG-13/Teen**

**Parts: 4**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Season: Second season, not specific.**

**Feedback: Yes, please.**

**Archive: Fanfic Net, Psychfic, otherwise please ask.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Psych_, and I'm not making any profit from this. This is for the enjoyment of other fans. Feedback and reviews are most welcome.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Date: 17 October 2007**

**A/N: My first full-length **_**Psych**_** story. This is more pure hurt/comfort than angst, I hope it's enjoyed. Oh, and the flashback is inspired by a challenge on Psychfic. This is meant to be a gen story with no shippings. This has been slightly revised, and the last couple of scenes are now in part four, along with new material. Hopefully, this part will now load faster and the change won't be too confusing. Share and review!**

**Summary: How far would Shawn go to protect his father? How would Henry react?**

* * *

**Part Three**

**FLASHBACK**

"So, any plans for Shawn's graduation?" asked Officer Karen Vick.

"Yeah, small party, a few friends, hamburgers on the grill, that sort of thing," answered Sgt. Henry Spencer, as he drove the squad car down a Santa Barbara street at night.

Just then the radio squawked, "Car 101, we have a report of a motorcyclist found injured at the side of the road. Paramedics are en route. Probable hit-and-run," the dispatcher then gave a location about three blocks away.

"Responding," said Henry, giving his location and turning on the sirens and lights, but he felt a cold fist hit him in the stomach, and his thoughts immediately went to his son and his new motorcycle. Henry had tried to convince Shawn that the machines were dangerous, that if he was in an accident he could be killed or at least severely hurt, but Shawn hadn't listened, at all. All Henry had gotten was a promise from Shawn that he would never ride his bike without a helmet.

Karen reached over and lightly touched Henry's arm, "There's no reason to assume it's Shawn, Henry, you know that."

"I wasn't assuming anything, I wasn't even thinking..." he left off.

"Yes, you were," replied Karen.

"Well, just because I've been nervous about every single traffic accident involving motorcycles we've responded to since Shawn bought that deathtrap, doesn't mean..." He left off, again, then looked at Karen, briefly, before returning his gaze to the street ahead. "Damn kid thinks he's invulnerable!"

Karen nodded, "And where is he supposed to be now?"

"With Gus."

"And Gus is?"

"The most responsible kid Shawn knows. And his best friend," Henry replied.

Karen nodded again.

Henry just drove on. He couldn't shake the bad feeling he had in his gut. A feeling worse than any he'd had since Shawn had bought the motorcycle. Karen was right, he hated responding to motorcycle accidents, but she was wrong about the reasons, he'd never felt so sure that Shawn was involved before, he just hated to see the carnage such accidents usually produced. It was too easy to imagine it happening to his own son.

Within minutes they pulled up. Several cars were to the side of the road, and an ambulance pulled in just as Henry pulled the squad car to the side of the road. Henry stopped, removed his seatbelt, got out of the car, and started to move toward the gathered civilians to find out what had happened, when he noticed the bike, a twisted, blood-covered metal mess, and the exact model and color Shawn drove. Shaken, he called out, "Where's the victim?"

"Over here!" someone shouted.

Henry moved forward, Karen following, toward the shout. About twenty feet away, a body lay on the gravel shoulder. Someone had placed a plaid woolen afghan on the person. But the afghan didn't completely cover the person. Henry moved closer, and closer, a weight seeming to buckle his shoulders, when he finally got close enough to see. A broken helmet lay to one side of the body, a helmet Henry recognized. He fell to his knees, the body was his son. "Shawn! Shawn!" Henry yelled. His hand shaking, he reached out and checked for a pulse.

Shawn's eyes were closed, and there was blood matting his hair, and running down his face.

Henry pressed his hand into Shawn's neck, and felt a strong, steady pulse. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Karen knelt next to Henry, "How is he?"

"Alive, other than that, I don't know, Karen, I just don't know."

Two paramedics approached, and began setting up their equipment.

Karen stood and turned to one of them, and motioned him slightly away from Shawn.

The paramedic looked at her strangely, then followed her away from Henry and Shawn.

They could hear Henry mumbling to Shawn, and Karen saw her partner grabbing his son's hand and holding it tightly.

"Look, we might have a problem. The victim is my partner's son. His name is Shawn Spencer, and he's seventeen."

The paramedic looked at her, questioningly.

Karen groaned, "We were just dispatched here because this was called in as a probable hit-and-run, my partner, Henry Spencer, had no idea..." she left off.

"Oh," said the paramedic, "He's family."

"Got it," responded Karen, "I'm going back to our unit to call for more cars. Obviously, Henry can't investigate this, and frankly, I don't want to-- I want to be there for Henry, you understand? But please, please, do everything you can. For Pete's sake, he's a cop's kid!"

The paramedic nodded, then returned to his own partner. He whispered Karen's information into his partner's ear, then moved to Henry and asked him to move back while he and his paramedic partner began working on Shawn. Henry reluctantly moved back out of the paramedics' way.

Karen moved off to their cruiser, and called-in for back-up, then she opened the trunk, took out an emergency blanket, and returned to Henry. When she found him, she gently draped the blanket around his shoulders.

"Thanks," mumbled Henry.

"I thought you could use it. You might be in shock," Karen answered.

**END FLASHBACK**

* * *

"You were one of the first responders to the accident?" said Lassiter quietly.

Henry nodded, "Yes, me and Karen Vick -- she was my partner then, not the police chief."

Lassiter closed his eyes, in sympathy, then opened them and lightly touched Henry's shoulder before pulling back, "It must have been..."

"Horrible," filled in Henry, "It was. I had nightmares for years. And, by the way, Shawn **doesn't **know that."

Juliet said, "About the nightmares, or that you were the first officer on the scene?"

"Both," said Henry, quietly.

Juliet looked at him, questioningly.

Gus caught her eye, shook his head, and mouthed, "Drop it."

Juliet nodded, but mouthed back, "Later."

Gus nodded.

Lassiter sat next to Henry, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and closed it again, then lightly touched Henry's arm in sympathy.

Henry glared at Lassiter's hand.

Lassiter pulled his hand away.

A few minutes later a nurse approached, "You're waiting to see Shawn Spencer?" she asked the group, who were now standing.

All four nodded.

"He's in ICU four. He can see two visitors at a time. He's still unconscious, but he should awake soon. However, until he does awake naturally, you do need to be quiet while visiting," said the nurse.

Lassiter and Juliet both moved directly to the chairs again, and sat.

Henry looked at the two police officers, and said, "Thank you."

Lassiter raised an eyebrow, then said to Henry, "He's your son. You need to see him first, Henry. Now go."

"Which way?" Gus asked the nurse, ignoring Henry's exchange with Lassiter.

"This way, follow me," said the nurse, pointing down the hall.

Henry and Gus followed her. Soon both stood outside Shawn's hospital room. Gus opened the door right away, and entered, then noticed Henry still outside. "Mr. Spencer?"

Henry nodded, then followed Gus into the hospital room.

Shawn lay, on his side, propped against pillows, on the white hospital bed. His eyes were closed, and a blanket was pulled up to his chin.

Henry sat in a chair closest to Shawn's head, on his right side. Gus took a chair from the left side of the bed, moved it to the right side, and sat next to Henry.

"Shawn?" said Henry, quietly, "Come on, Shawn, wake up, please."

"I thought we were supposed to let him sleep," said Gus.

Henry shook his head, "He will want to know what happened, and **I need** to know he's all right, to hear him speak, to make sure he's **really** all right."

Gus nodded, regretting asking Shawn's doctor about neurological damage earlier.

There was a groan from the bed and Shawn's eyes opened, "Wha..."

"Hush," said Henry, "You're in the hospital, Shawn."

Shawn looked around, saw the concerned faces of his father and Gus, then began to think back, trying to figure out what had happened.

Gus walked over to the table on the opposite side of the bed, then returned with a cup of ice cubes, "You want some ice?"

Shawn nodded.

Henry held Shawn up, while Gus held the cup to Shawn's lips, helping him take some of the ice.

Shawn took a couple of ice chips, gratefully, then pushed the cup away. After a few minutes of chewing he asked, "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" asked Henry.

Shawn closed his eyes, remembering, seeing pictures in his head, then opened his eyes, and said, "I went to the chief's office. I'd seen a report on TV about your former partner being shot. You were there," he lifted his right hand and pointed to Henry, "We argued."

"We didn't!" insisted Henry.

"We did," replied Shawn, concentrating, "We were walking out to the parking lot, your truck, and I saw a glare from a rifle sight on the roof of the building just north of the lot, I..." Shawn paused, "That's weird, I can't remember anything else. All I remember is noticing that glare of white light, reflecting sunlight from glass, and then, nothing." He looked at Gus, then at Henry, then at Gus again, "What happened?"

Henry nodded, "You were shot. Twice!" He grabbed Shawn's un-injured arm, "You shouted at me to get down, but then, Shawn, you put yourself in the way. You took a bullet for me, kid. Two! Two bullets!"

Shawn's eyes widened, as he looked at Henry, who was actually looking angry.

"Why'd you do that, Shawn?"

"Hum, let me think about that," Shawn answered, sarcastically, "maybe to prevent you from getting killed?"

Henry glared.

Shawn glared back.

Gus whistled, then said, "Calm down, both of you. Shawn, you just got out of surgery, I don't think you should be getting upset," Gus turned to Henry, "And just because you are worried that doesn't excuse shouting at him. He just woke up!"

Henry nodded, "You're right, Gus."

"'Course, I am," said Gus.

Then Henry said something unexpected, "I'm sorry, Shawn. I'm sorry I yelled. I'm just..." Words failed him and he threw up his hands. "I just... I was worried. Terrified. Still am, thinking about it. Shawn, I... I care about you," he finally said, softly.

"Care, Dad?" asked Shawn, still a bit angry.

"I love you, son," said Henry, "There, I said it, satisfied? But I really do mean it. I love you and if you had died, trying to save me..." He touched Shawn's uninjured shoulder, "I don't know if I could have coped with that, Shawn. I honestly... just don't know," Henry finally finished, then he let go of Shawn's shoulder, and pulled back a bit from Shawn's bed.

Shawn's eyes widened, he nodded, then he asked, "So, what's the damage? I mean, my left arm and shoulder hurt like a bitch, but..." he looked at Henry's concerned ice blue eyes, and at Gus's concerned face, then said, "I take it, there's more?"

It was Gus who responded, grimly, yet evenly, "The first bullet broke your scapula, Shawn. The second one... the second one hit your lower back, on the left. It entered your kidney, Shawn."

Shawn's eyes widened, again, as he immediately realized what that meant, "Not dialysis, again."

"They didn't remove it completely," said Henry, "the doctor thinks you'll have 70 percent function remaining in that kidney."

"But that still means..."

"Yep, dialysis, again, at least for the short term." Gus explained.

Shawn took the news remarkably calmly, "Anything else?"

"Anything else?" repeated Henry. "Isn't that enough?"

"Well, yeah, but you are both acting a bit strange."

"Shawn, you almost died!" said Gus. "That's enough to throw all of us who care about you for a loop, all right?"

"Sure, sure, OK," said Shawn, "I just don't feel... I mean, it doesn't seem like..." he left off, "My shoulder hurts a bit, and that's it. Oh, and... and my chest hurts."

"It hurts?" said Henry, reaching for the nurse call button.

"Aches. I mean, it's not like it hurts to breathe. I can breathe just fine, but there's a dull ache."

"That's probably from the CPR," said Henry, quietly.

Shawn lost all color in his face, then, as it finally hit him just how close this particular encounter had been.

Henry shook his head, "It's OK, son, it's OK," he reached forward to give Shawn an awkward hug. "You're all right now. And you're going to get better."

Just then a nurse entered the room, "You pressed the alert button, is he all right?"

Henry nodded, "His shoulder hurts, and he said his chest hurts, that's when I pressed the call button, nurse, but it's not **chest pain**, it's a dull ache, I think he's OK."

"Still, I should check him over, you should both leave for a moment, all right?" said the nurse.

Henry and Gus both nodded with understanding, then stood up.

"You can come back later, as can his other friends outside. I need to do a quick exam, it's standard procedure," said the nurse.

"Bye, Shawn, I'll be back," said Henry, moving away from Shawn's bedside.

Gus moved closer to Shawn as Henry moved away, and raised his fist. Shawn raised his own hand and bumped Gus's.

"Lassiter and Juliet are here too," said Gus, "I'm sure they'll want to see you. They're only letting two of us in at a time, but I'll definitely be back, OK?" Gus smiled at Shawn.

Shawn nodded, still quiet, processing what had happened since he woke up, then he grinned, "Lassie? AND Juliet?"

Gus returned Shawn's smile. Then he and Henry left the hospital room.

* * *

Once outside Shawn's hospital room Henry and Gus walked down to the waiting area, there they noticed Lassiter talking on his cell phone, Juliet still sitting besides him.

"Wait, here they are, there might be some news," Lassiter took the cell phone from his ear, then turned toward Henry and Gus, "How's Spencer? I mean, Shawn, Shawn Spencer?" he asked.

"He's awake. He's talking. And he remembers everything, right up to when he was shot. There's a nurse with him now, but she's just doing basic checks," Henry told Lassiter.

Lassiter nodded, repeated the information into his cell phone, then said, "Yeah, we'll be back at the precinct soon, Chief... Thanks... Bye," into the phone.

"Who?" asked Gus, raising an eyebrow.

"The chief," said Juliet, "She called, wanted an update. So is Shawn really going to be all right?"

Henry nodded, then swayed on his feet.

Lassiter moved to Henry, caught him in his arms, then led him over to the chairs and sat him down, "You should go home, rest. He's out of danger?"

Again, Henry nodded.

"Go home," said Lassiter.

"Can't," said Henry.

Lassiter glared at the older man, beginning to understand where Spencer, **his** Spencer got his stubbornness.

The nurse who had been with Shawn entered the waiting room, then. "Um-hum," she said to the four, getting their attention, "He's fine, but tired, two more of you can see him, but keep it short, and then he really needs some sleep, so you may as well go home, eat, sleep, take care of yourselves, he'll need you later, especially once he's on a dialysis schedule."

Henry nodded, then addressed Lassiter and Juliet, "Go ahead, I know you want to see him."

Lassiter nodded back, "Thanks, Henry."

The two rose and followed the nurse to Shawn's room.

They entered. Inside the room, Shawn had gotten the nurse to raise his bed a bit, and he looked alert. He grinned when he saw Lassiter and Juliet. "Lassie! Jules!"

Juliet smiled. Lassiter kept his face neutral, then moved to sit at Shawn's side.

"How are you feeling?" asked Lassiter.

"Lassie! Didn't know you cared," said Shawn lightly, then he sobered, "But there is something I need to know."

Lassiter nodded.

"What happened? I mean, I remember part of what happened, and my Dad told me part of what happened, but I don't..." he paused, then looked at Juliet, "Jules, maybe you should leave, just for a second, OK?"

Juliet looked at Shawn, her expression hurt. "Shawn, what are you talking about?"

Shawn sighed, deeply, then grimaced in pain. Lassiter winced.

"That! OK, that! Everyone's walking on egg shells around me. Now, I know I got hurt, but I'm fine," he looked around the hospital room, "OK, as fine as someone with a newly broken shoulder, and other injuries can be, but..." He took a deep breath, then said, "I've never seen my Dad's eyes as scared as I did when I woke up. What is going on? He said something about CPR?"

Lassiter looked at Shawn in amazement, "He didn't tell you?"

"Would I be asking if he did?" asked Shawn.

Lassiter took a deep breath, then said, "Your heart stopped, Shawn. Henry had to perform CPR on you. On his own son. He... the shooter was still on the roof, I couldn't get to you or Henry, couldn't even allow an ambulance to pull in, not until O'Hara brought him down," he glanced at his partner.

Shawn looked at Juliet, "O'Hara brought him down?"

"I had help, but you forget Shawn, I'm a cop too, you know," replied Juliet.

"Once O'Hara got him, I was able to go out there. Henry was so exhausted his arms were shaking, but he was still pumping your chest. I took over for him," said Lassiter.

"Oh," said Shawn.

"**Oh**?" said Juliet, "Is that all, 'oh'? I mean, I know you don't see eye to eye with your dad, but..."

Shawn shook his head, "No, I didn't mean... No wonder he was a bit..." Shawn's thoughts turned inward, then he said quietly, "I didn't realize that... I mean, I died?"

"Technically. Well, technically, twice. The paramedics shocked your heart back into a normal rhythm once in the police parking lot, and then again, in the ambulance," said Juliet.

Lassiter nodded.

"Whoa," said Shawn, "I suppose I really am lucky. So, Juliet, Lassie, did you find out who this shooter was? Why he killed Sorenson? Why he was after my dad?"

"Wait," said Lassiter, looking at Shawn, "Shawn, we just told you..." he left off.

Shawn cut him off, "But I'm fine now," he looked around the hospital room, "All right, not fine, but I'm not going to dwell on it. Now, why was the shooter after my dad?"

"Your dad?"

"I had a premonition my dad was in danger. And the shooter couldn't have known I would be at the station, but he could have followed my dad, so I guess that's who he was after," said Shawn.

Lassiter and Juliet exchanged a look, "Or could he have followed you?" asked Juliet.

Shawn looked at her, his eyes widening in fear, "You mean, he **meant** to shoot me?"

"We don't know, but we'll find out, Spencer. Just get some rest. O'Hara and I will head back to the station and interview the shooter, find out what's going on," Lassiter reached out and lightly tapped Shawn's uninjured shoulder, "Take it easy. Rest. Get better. OK?"

Shawn nodded, still thinking about what Lassiter had said. Then he settled in, lying down to sleep.

Lassiter stepped away from Shawn, then Juliet moved closer, she leaned forward and lightly kissed his forehead, then smiled, shyly, and moved to join Lassiter. The two exited the hospital room.

* * *

Juliet and Lassiter left Shawn's hospital room, and joined Henry and Gus in the waiting area.

"How's Shawn?" asked Gus.

"He's tired. I think he'll be sleeping soon," replied Lassiter. "We need to get back to the precinct and start interviewing the shooter, find out what's going on."

Henry and Gus nodded, then Henry said, "Just let me look in on Shawn one more time, then we'll go."

The four walked back to Shawn's ICU room, Henry opened the door and looked in. Shawn was indeed asleep, and his bed had been lowered until it was horizontal.

Gus, Juliet and Lassiter looked in as well. Then, Gus quietly shut the door again. The four exited the hospital and headed for the parking lot.

It was dark outside, Lassiter led the four to his unmarked police car.

Once they were in the sedan, Lassiter turned in the driver's seat toward Henry in the passenger seat and said, "Henry, do you want me to drive you home? It's not a problem, really."

"No," said Henry, sharply. "I want to go to the precinct with you and talk to the lowlife that shot my son. He's not getting away with this."

Lassiter was about to say something, then he stopped, "Gus?" he said to the young man in the back seat, next to Juliet.

"I agree with Mr. Spencer," said Gus, "I want in on interviewing the creep too."

Lassiter turned the key in the ignition, backed his car out of the parking spot, then put it in gear and drove off towards the SBPD station.

* * *

Lassiter pulled into the visitor's parking lot at the Santa Barbara Police Department, he swallowed hard as he realized that the dark, wet spot gleaming in the blue-white parking lot lights was Shawn Spencer's spilled blood. He quickly pulled the car through that lot and into the next employee's one, and smoothly turned into his customary spot.

Henry's hand was already on the door to let himself out, Lassiter locked the doors.

Henry turned to face Lassiter and glared at the younger man.

"Henry, look, I'm sorry, but I can't let you go in there to talk to this creep. I don't want his lawyer to have any excuse to get the case thrown out of court, and allowing a civilian in on questioning would do just that." He looked at Gus in the back seat, "That goes for you too, Guster."

Henry was bristling from Lassiter's reference to him being a 'civilian', "How many years did I have on the force?"

"Doesn't matter, and you know it, Henry," replied Lassiter.

"What about the two-way mirror? Can we at least stay outside and watch? I want to know who this guy is and why he put two bullets into my best friend!" Gus's voice was calm, but determined, and Lassiter knew he couldn't refuse the young man what he wanted.

"Perhaps, I'll ask Chief Vick," said Lassiter, then he released the door locks.

The four doors of the unmarked sedan opened, and all four stepped out and walked over to the police department. It was quite late, and many officers had gone home, but not as many as normal for the time of night. Lassiter looked around, seeing the concerned looks in the eyes of his fellow police officers. The actions of the sniper, shooting an unarmed civilian, a police consultant, on the very doorstep of the police department had deeply shaken everyone. That the victim was Shawn Spencer whom every one liked, or at least found amusing, made the entire situation even worse.

A few officers even approached the four, who quickly answered questions, briefly, and without giving too many personal medical details.

Eventually they made their way through the well-meaning throng of people to Chief Karen Vick's office.

Lassiter opened the door and they all filed inside.

Karen immediately rose from her desk, walked over to Henry, and lightly put her hands on his shoulders, "Henry, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," said Henry, "It's Shawn who..." he left off.

Karen kept her hands on Henry's shoulders, slowly his blue eyes met hers, "Henry," she said calmly.

"I'm OK, Karen, really, I'm OK," said Henry, then he pulled away from her touch.

Karen nodded, she knew that if she offered any more comforting Henry would probably fall apart, and not thank her for it. "Guster?"

"Have you found out anything about the shooter?" he countered, his voice tense.

Vick gave him a short nod, "Before we start, would one of you tell me Shawn's condition? Any news since the last time I talked to you, Detectives?" she looked at Lassiter and Juliet.

"He's stable," offered Juliet.

"He was sleeping the last time we saw him," said Lassiter.

"Thank you," said Karen, she moved back to her desk and sat down, "Now, the shooter. We haven't gotten anything out of him. Not even a name."

"Let me at him," said Lassiter, his voice tense and angry.

"I'll help," said Juliet, sounding just as tense.

Vick looked at the two, then nodded, "All right, but by the book, right?"

Both detectives nodded.

"Karen, I want in on questioning the bastard that shot Shawn!" said Henry.

"I can't do that," said Karen, she picked up her phone, and asked someone on the other end to bring the prisoner to an interview room.

"Can I, we," said Gus, indicating Henry, "Can we at least watch the interview through the glass window?"

Karen nodded, "As long as you don't interfere, or enter the interview room, then yes."

Gus and Henry nodded. The room fell silent.

After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. A uniform opened it, "The prisoner is in interview two," he said.

"Thank you, Officer Cole," said Karen, "Go ahead detectives. And Carlton, by the book?"

Lassiter nodded sharply, "Of course."

Karen looked at the four, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

The four left the room, quietly. Karen followed, catching Henry by the arm, then pulling him back into her office.

"Henry, are you really all right? I mean, I **know** you, I can understand staying calm in front of everyone, but Henry," she blew a breath between her teeth, then said, "If you want to talk, if you need anything?"

"He's stable, Karen. He's alive and he's stable. That's all I need," Henry told her, then he followed the two detectives and Gus.

Lassiter led the way to interview two. He showed Gus and Henry to the one-way glass they could see through but was a mirror in the interview room. He didn't bother to explain the intercom system, knowing that both of them had experience using it. Then he moved over to the door to the interview room, and entered.

Juliet stood by the door for a minute, waiting, listening to her partner on her earpiece.

"So, What's your name?" asked Lassiter, as he entered.

The perp, an older man with greasy black hair, horn-rimmed glasses, and a long horse-like face, sat quietly at the table in the room.

Lassiter strode forward, hit the table with his hand, and said, "Your name?"

There still was no answer.

Lassiter grabbed a chair and sat at the table, he leaned forward, "Come on, your name? It's not much, is it? Just tell me your name?"

"Kendrick," said the man, "Thomas Kendrick."

* * *

Outside, looking into the room, Henry paled, then said, "Oh my God," quietly.

"What?" Gus whispered to him.

"Tell you later," said Henry, then he waved at the window and they continued to watch.

* * *

Inside the interview room, Lassiter was continuing his interrogation.

"So, why did you shoot Shawn Spencer?"

"Who?" the Kendrick asked.

"Shawn Spencer, the man you shot in the police parking lot?"

"I wasn't aiming for him, he got in the way," said Kendrick.

_Well, that answers that question_, Lassiter thought, "Who **were** you aiming at?"

"Spencer. Henry Spencer. I already took care of Sorensen, Spencer was next, then Judge Foster, figured he would be the hardest to catch."

Lassiter looked at the man, in shock. He'd never gotten a blatant confession quite so easily before. Suddenly, he became aware of Juliet standing at his right side.

"Why?" asked Juliet, calmly.

"Because they put me in jail for..." he paused, then said, "I had the right to treat my children any way I saw fit, after all the Bible says, spare the rod, spoil the child."

Lassiter stiffened.

"But noooo, damn interfering police called me a criminal. They're the criminals, Detective," continued Kendrick.

Lassiter closed his eyes in pain, then opened them slightly, and asked with cold fury, "So you shot Sorenson because..."

"I just got out, and now it's time for them to pay," he said, calmly and coldly. "Can you believe my wife left me after all that? She took my boy with her, too. Where does she get any right...where do they get any right to come into my home and interfere in how I manage my family?"

Lassiter asked, "You're willing to sign a confession?"

Kendrick looked at Lassiter blankly, "Confession? I'm telling you I didn't do anything wrong!"

Lassiter looked upwards towards the ceiling, took a deep breath, then said, "To shooting Sorenson, and Shawn Spencer. Are you willing to sign a confession?"

Kendrick nodded, then said clearly, "Oh, that. Yes, of course. But wait, you said Shawn Spencer?"

Juliet nodded, "Henry's son."

"Really?"

Lassiter nodded.

"So, Sgt. Spencer had a son? I hope I killed him. Spencer deserves the grief."

Lassiter's hand formed into a fist and he raised it, aiming for the perp. Juliet grabbed his hand, and held him back.

"He's not worth it, Carlton."

Lassiter dropped his fist.

Kendrick raised an eyebrow, "Carlton? Not, detective?"

Again, Lassiter felt his blood pressure rise. Then he said, "We are done here," pushed back his chair, motioned to Juliet, and said, "O'Hara?" gesturing toward the door. They both walked out, closing the door.

Lassiter walked over to Henry near the window. Juliet carefully watched the perp through the window.

"Henry?" asked Lassiter.

Henry turned towards the younger detective, "Thomas Kendrick. Sorenson and I investigated him for criminal child abuse."

"How criminal?" asked Lassiter.

"He killed his youngest child, and sent the older boy into a coma. He didn't wake up for six months," Henry answered, his hand to his face.

Gus looked at Henry in shock.

"One of your worst cases?" Lassiter said quietly.

"At the time I thought so, but, no," Henry answered.

Again, Lassiter nodded in understanding. Then he said, "Any particular reason he'd hold this type of grudge?"

Henry shook his head, "Not beyond your typical whack-job criminal logic, no."

Lassiter's mouth tightened in a perfectly straight line, remembering that Henry was of the old school, "And you had evidence? No chance he was innocent?"

"He did it, no question. There were witnesses. Forensics. A damn confession. Hell, he was proud of what he did, can you imagine that, Detective?"

"Yes, actually, I did some time working the sex crimes unit, Henry.

Henry looked at the young detective in shock, Lassiter was known to be the rising star of the department, but Henry had thought he had always worked in homicide. Then Henry decided to steer the conversation away from a comparison of truly horrible and memorable cases, so he asked, "You're not taking **his** word over mine, are you, Detective?"

Lassiter shook his head, "I had to ask. It's protocol. No, you're right about your assessment of his character," again his mouth tightened into a line. Then he said, "I'll need to get a stenographer here, take his statement, get him to sign it. Henry, Gus, go home. Get some rest."

Gus stepped forward, "Isn't there anything else we can do?"

Lassiter shook his head, "No. Once he signs the forms, we'll transfer him to holding, then the case goes to the D.A. Court probably won't be for months."

Gus nodded, he'd already gotten used to the steps involved in the entire process.

Lassiter saw the look in Gus's eyes, "Go home." Then he looked at Henry, "Henry, go home. Rest."

Henry looked ready to protest the idea, then Gus turned toward him, "I'll drive you home, Mr. Spencer."

"No, it's okay, I have my truck," said Henry.

"You sure?" asked Gus.

Henry nodded, "Yeah, I can drive myself home, Gus. But thanks. And today, at the hospital, just," he looked at the young man, "just thanks."

Gus nodded. "You ready to leave, then?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here."

Gus and Henry walked down the corridor and out of the police station.

Lassiter turned to Juliet, "Let's take care of the paperwork and get this done."

Juliet nodded, "You got it."

**To Be Continued**


	4. Chapter 4

**Fandom: Psych**

**Title: Family Sacrifices**

**Author: Olivia Sutton**

**Warnings: Violence, Angst**

**Rating: PG-13/Teen**

**Parts: 4**

**Spoilers: None.**

**Season: Second season, not specific.**

**Feedback: Yes, please.**

**Archive: Fanfic Net, Psychfic, otherwise please ask.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Psych_, and I'm not making any profit from this. This is for the enjoyment of other fans. Feedback and reviews are most welcome.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Part Four/Revised Date: 23 October 2007**

**AN: First, thanks to all my reviews. Also, thanks to my betas, Cherie on Fanficmed (Yahoo discussion list) and ilsaluvsrick over at Live Journal. Also Fodor's guide (series) to Southern California for information on Santa Barbara. I finally broke through the writer's block and figured out how to really conclude this story. I hope you like it. Please note that part four starts with a re-cap from what was previously in part three, hopefully this won't be confusing. Reviews welcome.**

* * *

**Family Sacrifices by Olivia Sutton**

**Part Four**

Gus left the police station and drove his car toward home. He reached State St. where he would normally turn right to drive toward his apartment. He turned left instead and took State to Cabrillo Street which he followed to Santa Barbara's boardwalk and public beach. He pulled into a lot there, parked, then got out of the car, walking to the boardwalk. Gus walked down the boardwalk until he found a bench, then sat and stared at the ocean. The smell of salt, water, and the occasional dead fish filled his nostrils. Sometimes, being the _super sniffer_, as Shawn called him teasingly, wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world.

Since Santa Barbara was on an inlet on the coast, the Harbor was actually to the south. Gus watched the dark black waves, as they changed to purple, then pink, and finally bluish-green as the sun rose on his left. He sat, quietly, thinking about Shawn, and the times they had both gone to the boardwalk. It was one of Shawn's favorite places and had been since they were both young boys. 'Course when Shawn was upset, he'd walk at a break-neck pace up and down the boardwalk until he burned off his excess energy. Gus preferred being quiet and still, unless he was accompanying Shawn, waiting for him to calm down enough to be able to talk about what was bothering him. Nine times out of ten what was bothering Shawn was his dad. Gus sighed, got up off the bench, and walked closer to the ocean and onto the beach. It was fully light now, the sky a bright robin's egg blue, the waves green with white caps as they fell over and crashed into the sandy beach. After a few minutes looking at the water, he turned, walked back to his car and drove to the Psych Detective Agency.

He let himself in with his key, and walked in. Everything in the agency reminded Gus strongly of Shawn, from the toys on Shawn's desk to the various games and electronics in the office. Gus went to his desk and sat down, then reached for the phone. There was no way he was going to go into work today. No way at all. Even though the police had arrested the guy who shot Shawn, so there was nothing to investigate, he wasn't ready to sell pharmaceuticals, not today.

As Gus hung up the phone, there was a knock at the door. Gus got up and opened it. Juliet stood there.

"Juliet?" he asked, "Is Shawn okay?"

"He's fine, as far as I know. The station hasn't received any calls or anything."

Gus nodded, then looked at her, questioningly.

Juliet looked at Gus, then said, "I'm here, because Gus, I'm worried about you."

Gus looked at her, "What?", then he realised she was still standing in the entryway. "Come in, sit down, then tell me what you mean?"

Juliet did as Gus suggested and before long, they were sitting on the sofa in the Psych Detective Agency office.

Juliet reached out, and touched Gus's arm, then pulled her hand back. "Gus," she said simply, then she took a deep breath and added, "Gus, how are you dealing with yesterday?"

Gus looked at her.

Juliet tried again. "Gus, you're not a police officer. And with everything you and Shawn **have** seen so far, in your casework, it's a whole lot different to see your friend and partner get shot."

Gus nodded. Then he said, quietly, "I never thought this would be happen."

Juliet nodded.

"Shawn, ... Shawn, always saw it as a game. A way to use his talents. But I knew that it was dangerous. I just didn't expect this!" Gus voice rose at the end, and began to shake.

"No one does, Gus. And remember, he's OK, he'll be OK."

Gus nodded, "I know, that's what's keeping me together. That and remembering the last time... that he survived."

"The motorcycle accident?" asked Juliet. "I wanted to ask you about that. Lassiter and I had no idea! But why did Henry never tell Shawn he was there?"

"Because the minute he was out of the hospital, he was off on a new bike, running around the country." Gus's expression became inward-looking. "Well, it wasn't the next minute. But he worked two jobs until he made enough money, emptied his savings account, bought the new bike, and ran."

"And left Henry behind?" said Juliet.

Gus nodded, sighed, then said, "At first I didn't understand it, either. I mean, he left me too, Juliet. But he kept in touch with me, post cards, phone calls. It was weird - for ten years my best friend and I had a long-distance relationship. But he was letting me know he was ok, and I'd see him every once in awhile. Eventually, I realized that Shawn had dealt with the accident by packing in as much as he possibly could into life. Trying every experience he possibly could. Doing all the things he always promised himself he'd do. Which was a positive thing."

Juliet nodded, "And Henry?"

"You'd have to ask him," replied Gus.

Juliet nodded, "So, you're OK? I mean, I'm here for you."

"I'm OK," answered Gus.

* * *

Henry sat quietly in his house, a book in his hand, trying to read. But his mind kept going over and over what had happened the previous day. Then his doorbell rang. Henry rose, walked to the door and opened it. There stood Detective Lassiter.

"May I come in?" asked Lassiter.

Henry looked at Lassiter, then lost all color in his face and felt woozy, and began to collapse.

Lassiter stepped forward, taking Henry in his arms. "You all right?" he asked.

"Shawn?" mumbled Henry, as he pulled away, trying to regain his equilibrium.

"He's the same. We haven't received any calls at the station, Henry."

Henry nodded, then stood on his own, completely out of Lassiter's arms. "Come in," he mumbled.

Carlton nodded, and entered the house, shutting the door behind himself.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee, a beer?"

"Beer would be good," said Lassiter.

They moved into the kitchen. Henry opened the refrigerator door, took out two beers, and brought them to the table.

Lassiter took his beer, twisted off the cap, and took a swig. Then he looked at Henry.

Henry looked at the beer in his hand, then at Lassiter, but said nothing.

Lassiter waited, quietly.

Finally, Henry said, "I never thought that when Shawn went into police work, any type of police work that he'd actually be hurt."

Lassiter nodded.

"Twenty years on the Job, and it never occurred to me what I was sending my son into? How dumb is that?" said Henry, with a smirk of self-recrimination.

Lassiter reached forward, then stopped himself from actually touching Henry, "It wasn't your fault!"

"He was aiming for**me**, Carlton!" said Henry, hitting his hand against the table. "Shawn put himself in the way!"

Lassiter got up, moved to the older man, and grabbed Henry's shoulders. "It was an instinctive reaction Henry."

Henry began to shake. "I almost lost him. Again! And at the hospital, he was sitting there like nothing had happened! Again!"

Carlton held Henry's shoulders tightly, "And Shawn needs time to process what happened. He will need to see the department shrink, Henry. He works for the SBPD, and was shot on duty. Even as a consultant," Carlton let go of Henry, "Even as a consultant, the department owes him that much."

Henry nodded, then said quietly, "He's not going to leave me?"

Carlton shook his head, then said, "No, he's not," then he took Henry into his arms.

Henry sighed, and let Carlton hold him.

Carlton calmly held the older man in his arms. Suddenly, he knew that his friend and mentor, Henry, and his son, Shawn, had actually made yet another step forward in their relationship. After a minute he let go, "You all right, Henry?"

"Yeah," said Henry, nodding, "Yeah, I am."

Carlton stepped back, nodded slightly, then said, "Good."

* * *

The next morning Henry woke up early, dressed, then made himself coffee. At nine o'clock he left his house and drove to the Memorial Trauma Center. He parked his truck in the visitor's lot, then rushed to Shawn's ICU room. When he got there, though, the room was empty. Henry's heart leaped in his chest and he quickly went to the nurse's station.

"Excuse me?" he asked the older nurse at the station.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"My son, Shawn, he was in ICU room four? He's not there now."

The nurse typed on her computer keyboard, read the screen, then said, "Oh, yes, he's in the dialysis unit. That's the sixth floor. The notes have him in room one, but dialysis patients are often changed from room to room at the last minute, so if you don't find him in room one, check with the charge nurse on that floor, OK?"

Henry nodded, "Thank you, nurse. And which way?"

He followed the nurse's directions and was soon walking down a white hospital corridor. As he approached the dialysis unit, he heard laughing and talking. He stopped for a moment, steadied himself, then walked forward at a slower pace, before opening the door.

Henry opened the door and entered the room. Shawn was sitting up in bed, his right arm taped down, with IV's taped into it. The fluid in the IV's was red, and Henry winced. Gus sat on a chair pulled up near Shawn's head on the left side of the bed. Carlton Lassiter stood behind him, standing in a relaxed manner, his knee bent slightly.

The talking stopped, the Shawn said, "Hi, Dad."

Henry moved closer, "Shawn," he said unemotionally.

Gus and Lassiter looked from father to son and back.

Lassiter took a deep breath then said, "We were just telling Shawn who shot him."

Henry started to nod, when Shawn said, "Gus said that wasn't your worst case? That man killed his own child and put his older son into a coma and you've had cases **worse **than that?"

Henry moved closer to Shawn's head on the his left side. Gus rose and offered his chair. Henry sat, then he said, "Yeah, Shawn. Kendrick was bad, but I've seen worse."

Shawn's eyes widened in amazement, "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," said Henry.

"And you wanted me to go into that line of work? For God's sake, why?"

Henry didn't have an answer to that.

"I think I **do** want to know, then."

Henry took a deep breath.

Lassiter looked at the older man, then at Shawn, then at Gus, "Guster, I think they'd like some privacy."

"Uh, yeah," said Gus, "Shawn, I'll be back later. OK?"

"I'll be here for the next three hours," Shawn replied, then he looked at the clock in the room, "Uh, two and a half."

Gus looked at Shawn in sympathy, "You'll be all right, you know."

Shawn nodded, "I know. It's just boring being tied to a machine for hours," he raised his non-taped down hand, "Go."

Lassiter and Gus left.

Shawn looked at Henry, "You've got something to tell me?"

Henry looked at Shawn, then said, "You remember the last time you were hurt this seriously? Your motorcycle accident?"

"That's not fair! You know that I don't remember that! All I remember is leaving Gus's on my bike, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital, I'd missed my graduation, and you were telling me I'd been in a coma for a month."

"Shawn! Shawn, I wasn't trying to hurt you by bringing that up."

Shawn's eyes glittered as he looked at his father in anger.

Henry stood up walked to the foot of Shawn's bed, turned and walked back, then said quietly, "I wore The Uniform for twenty years, Shawn."

"I know that! You never let me forget it."

"Well, one of the things I had to do was respond to traffic accidents. And some of those were horrific. That was some of the worst things I experienced. I mean, as bad as someone like Kendrick was, I wasn't a homicide detective, that wasn't the bread and butter of my job on the force. So, sometimes, it was a... quantity verses quality type of thing. Only the _thing_ we're talking about here is bad experiences I went through. And dealt with as professionally as I could."

Shawn nodded, "You've never explained it like that, Dad."

Henry sat, reached forward and took Shawn's hand, "Shawn, I... I was there."

Shawn looked at his father, noticed his pained eyes, then said, "Oh, my, god. You... you didn't..." he left off.

"Karen and I were the first car on the scene of a motorcyclist hit by a hit and run driver. That motorcyclist was you, Shawn."

Shawn looked at his father, his eyes widened in shock, then he squeezed his father's hand. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault. I followed your case, even put in some time on my own. Your bike was clipped by a hit and run driver, whoever it was, was probably drunk, but we never found him. And you recovered, so..." Henry put his hands behind his head, then said, "The only thing that I... I blamed you for was buying a new bike and leaving. I shouldn't have, but I did. And, I'm sorry for that, Shawn. I am."

Shawn nodded, "Truce?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," said Henry, "I..." he left off.

"I know," said Shawn, smiling at Henry.

There was a light knock at the door. Henry got up and opened it. Gus and Lassiter stood there, Lassiter with two cups of coffee, Gus with two clear plastic cups.

"Smoothies?" said Gus, walking towards Shawn.

"Thanks," said Shawn, snagging a cup from Gus with his left hand.

"Coffee," Lassiter offered Henry.

"Thanks," answered Henry.

"Everything all right between you two?" asked Lassiter.

Gus shot a look at Henry, then at Shawn.

"Yeah," said Henry.

"We're good," said Shawn.

Gus and Lassiter smiled.

**The End**


End file.
